Reincarnated as an Evil Harem God

Aureve's face was flushed red, not just from the alcohol, which was already reeking off her skin in heavy waves, but from the heat that had started rising deep within her the moment they sat alone together. Her pussy was getting wet just from the thought — the idea that a young, strong, and devastatingly handsome man might take her tonight if she played her cards right.

And it was already rare for a woman her age to grow wet so easily, especially without foreplay… but here she was, soaked at just the thought of him. A dead giveaway. A humiliating, dangerous sign of how needy she was, and how very much alive her body still was, despite the years.

The room had quieted, but her heart hadn't.

Aureve sat across from him now, both of them perched on the edge of the guest bed — the same one barely used unless nobility dropped in, now becoming a silent witness to the fire growing between them. The vodka bottle rested between them like a sleeping dragon.

The firelight on the walls flickered and danced, shadows lapping across skin, painting them both in molten gold and hungry red. She was still flushed, still trembling slightly, still reeling — not just from the liquor, but from him. From his body, his scent, the way his golden eyes stared at her like she was the only woman in the world.

Why are you looking at me like that… stop, please… if you keep looking at me like that, I won't be able to control myself…

Sylvaris poured them each another drink, his fingers steady and smooth, like a man who'd done this a thousand times — like a man who knew exactly what he was doing. His control didn't falter, not even when her thighs shifted, pressing together under the unbearable weight of her need.

"To your happiness and desires," he said softly, lifting the glass toward her — his voice coated in silk, but the meaning hidden beneath was anything but innocent.

She's falling for it. Good. But damn, she's prettier than I thought. And those tits… fuck. If I don't titfuck her tonight, I'll never forgive myself. Let him suffer. Let the old bastard bleed. I'll fuck his woman, make her moan for me like she never did for him, and I'll do it again and again until she begs to belong to me. Six more after this. One down. I'm taking this house.

But on the outside, he smiled like a gentleman. A perfect man. His golden gaze fixed on her glowing blue eyes, his posture composed, even though her ridiculous cleavage was just begging for his hands to wander.

"To someone finally standing up for me," Aureve answered, her voice just a little too soft, too fragile. She clinked her glass against his, and the sound rang out like a secret pact between them.

GLK—GLK—GLK—

The liquor burned as it slid down, hotter now, sharper, or maybe it just felt that way because of the tension between them. Aureve coughed once, the fire in her throat matching the one pooling in her belly. Her chest trembled slightly from the vodka, from the heat, from how close he sat. Every time his thigh brushed hers, it was like her skin sparked. And neither of them made any effort to move away.

Her hand moved slowly, resting in her lap, but it had a mind of its own. It inched closer.

She was rambling softly about how she used to be strong, about how she didn't think life would turn out like this, but her hand betrayed her. Her fingers slipped over to his thigh like they'd done it a hundred times. Featherlight. Testing. Almost innocent.

But not quite.

Sylvaris noticed immediately. There it is. Took her long enough. Now let's see if it's real… or just desperate nerves.

His eyes dipped to the movement, just briefly, then flicked back to her face. There was a faint smile trying to hide behind her lips. A silent invitation.

He leaned back slightly, his hand drifting toward her side, slow and casual — and then his knuckles grazed her breast. Soft. Marshmallow-soft. Just a test.

She didn't flinch. Didn't pull away. Perfect. That's the green light! He mused with a grin curling inside.

Her breath hitched. Her eyes flicked to his face, desperate for confirmation, desperate for him to want her back. Her heart cried out without words. Please. I need you. Let me forget the years of pain. Let me feel like a woman again.

His hand moved again, just a little higher. The curve of her mound. His touch was still soft, still controlled, but it wasn't respectful anymore. Not really. Not after that.

They didn't speak. The silence between them was a language now — every breath, every flicker of contact, a sentence. Every heartbeat was a confession.

She leaned in closer. Not kissing distance yet, but enough that their breath mingled. Her lips parted just a bit. And his eyes… dropped.

"You look so beautiful tonight. I love the way you smell." His whisper brushed her ear like a brand, and her whole body trembled from the heat behind his words. That final defense she'd been clinging to shattered.

Her hand slid higher up his thigh, trembling, hesitant, but bolder than before. She could feel him now. Hard. Hot. Throbbing through his pants.

Gods, he's huge… Can I even take that? Wait, no... what am I even thinking!?

His hand cupped her breast fully now. His fingers sank into the soft weight, her nipple stiffening against his palm even through the layers of her dress—"Hnnngh~"—she gasped, her lips parting, her breath hitched, and in that moment… It snapped.

He leaned in and kissed her.

"Mmm~"

His kiss was not sweet, nor shy. Not even one bit innocent.

It was carnal. So raw and hungry.

His arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her in hard. Her soft chest crashed into his. Her heartbeat drummed against his mouth. She moaned into him like she couldn't hold back anymore, brushing his cock with her fingers.

Their tongues collided — slow at first, then deeper, messier. Their mouths moved in rhythm, greedy and wet, tasting each other with every pull and breath.

"Mmhh… I… I can't—hnnngh…!" Her voice cracked, thighs clenching together as the heat soaked through her panties.

His other hand slid up her back, holding her firmly, anchoring her as their bodies melted into each other like wax pressed too close to fire. She whimpered against his mouth, hips shifting, thighs parting just enough to let him closer.

She could feel his cock twitch. Throb with desire.

And he could feel everything, every tremor in her limbs, every beat of her needy heart, every wet little gasp she gave when his tongue danced over hers.

The window rattled faintly, wind creeping in from the dying sunset. But inside this room, the fire hadn't faded. It had only just begun.

Their skin burned. Their breath came fast. Their lips stayed locked like magnets snapping together again and again.

She broke away first, panting, eyes wide, lips swollen.

"I-I didn't mean to—" she started.

But Sylvaris didn't let her finish. He kissed her again. Harder this time.